


Golden Lining

by lepapillonrose



Series: Of Love and Injury [1]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: College AU, Fluff, Getting Together, Insecurity, KasaMomo if you squint, Kasamatsu and Kise are captain and ace in uni because I said so, Light Angst, M/M, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Sports injuries, the AU where Kise gets seriously injured
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-29
Updated: 2019-05-31
Packaged: 2020-02-09 18:56:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18644107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lepapillonrose/pseuds/lepapillonrose
Summary: "As much as Kise thought he’d prepared for it, he doesn’t want to accept that Aomine may never notice him again."-Kise has been chasing Aomine for years, in basketball and in love, unknowing that Aomine does the same on the other end. But when Kise gets a serious injury that puts his career and his confidence in jeopardy, it's Aomine's job to show him that there is more to their relationship than just basketball.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello my friends! I'm finally back with another fic. This should be a two-shot, maybe a three-shot if I decide to have an extra chapter. I'll probably come back and edit this when I'm less tired lol, but for now, please enjoy!

Kise loves basketball. That is something he does not doubt, not after playing it nonstop for seven years, not after meeting his best friends because of it. It’s given him a place where he belongs, where he can challenge himself and grow and have fun.

Still, sometimes, Kise wonders if love is enough. He is naturally gifted, but he is not Kagami or Aomine, living and breathing basketball because he is born to play it. Kise conditions himself continuously, just as much as, if not more than, anyone else, and yet of the entire Generation of Miracles, it is he who has been nursing a recurring injury for the past few years.

Kise has poured his blood, sweat, and tears into the sport that he loves. Now, he waits in the emergency room after what may very well be his last college game. As he tries to distract himself from the searing pain in his ankle, the very same ankle that has plagued him since high school, Kise wonders if basketball loves _him_.

 

* * *

 

Aomine’s with Momoi when he hears the news. They’re in a café for a study session (which really just means Momoi is studying out loud for herself while also hoping some of it diffuses into her hopeless childhood friend’s brain) when suddenly, she stops talking. Aomine cracks open an inquisitive eye, but Momoi isn’t even looking at him. She’s staring at her laptop screen, eyes widened in horror.

“Satsuki?”

“Hold on, Dai-chan,” is all she says, in her no-bullshit voice, before she dials a number and holds her phone up to her ear. “Hi, Kasamatsu-san. How are you?”

That name throws Aomine even further for a loop. As far as he knows, Momoi and the ex Kaijou captain rarely communicate—not unless, he realizes with a start, it concerns Kise.

“I’m fine. I was actually calling to ask you about that article, but…” Momoi sighs heavily, as if she is trying to collect herself. “Poor Ki-chan…”

Aomine’s stomach churns unpleasantly and it has nothing to do with the coffee he drank an hour ago. “What happened to Kise?” he demands, cutting off whatever she was about to say next. “Satsuki, tell me what—”

Momoi fixes Aomine with a glare. “Sorry for the noise, I’m with Dai-chan right now. We can come over as soon as—” She falls silent for a few moments, expression twisting into one of grim understanding as she listens to Kasamatsu. “—Ah, I see. You’re right. His health is more important than anything… I’ll let them know. In the meantime, please take of Ki-chan for us.”

Momoi bids Kasamatsu farewell and hangs up the phone, and immediately Aomine is on her. “What happened to him, Satsuki?” he demands again, frantically, and the way her gaze fills with tears does nothing to ease his worries. “Why’d you call Kasamatsu? What’s wrong with Kise?”

Her answer makes him feel as if the ground has been snatched from underneath his feet.

“Dai-chan… Ki-chan got hurt. Really badly. And… they don’t know if he’ll be able to play basketball ever again.”

 

* * *

 

A complete Achilles tendon rupture, the doctor declares. It’s uncommon in men as young as Kise, but anything is possible with an awkward landing and a stroke of bad luck. Fortunately the surgery itself is quick and successful, and his tendon is reattached without complications. Later that evening, armed with a knee-length cast and heavy-duty painkillers, Kise is hobbling to Kasamatsu’s car like a newborn fawn on his shaky crutches.

With careful maneuvering, Kise finally gets himself into the passenger seat and props his cast leg up on the dashboard. He suddenly remembers all the times Kasamatsu has scolded him for doing the same thing and finds enough humor in it to snicker to himself. But when he looks back at his captain in the driver’s seat, mouth set in a hard line that Kise knows to mean concern, he feels his throat constrict.

“I’m sorry, senpai,” Kise says quietly, as Kasamatsu wordlessly pulls out of the parking lot. “I let you and the guys down.”

Kasamatsu’s white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel tightens. “Don’t you _dare_ blame yourself,” he warns, taking his eyes off the road for a split second to glare at Kise. “You know every single one of the guys has texted me asking for updates? That they’d have rather lost than have you hurt yourself this badly? No one’s disappointed in you, Kise. You work just as hard as anyone on this team. We’re worried to all hell, but _never_ disappointed.”

For the umpteenth time, Kise is thankful that he and Kasamatsu reunited as ace and captain in university. He hasn’t had the courage to check his work or personal phones since he’d been discharged from the hospital, so hearing that from Kasamatsu eases a bit of his fear. The guilt of failing his captain and team for a second time, however, still weighs heavy in his mind.

“Don’t worry about us. Your only job now is to listen to the doctor and get better.” Once he stops at the traffic light, Kasamatsu reaches over to ruffle Kise’s hair. “There’s no point in dwelling, especially when there’s no way you could’ve prevented this. So just keep your head up and look forward. You’ll get through this.”

The hand on his head is a comforting weight, and Kise can’t help but smile, glad that Kasamatsu still has faith in him even when his own is wavering. “You’ve got it, Captain."

Kise’s voice is far from steady, a far cry from its usual bright arrogance, but Kasamatsu gives him a reassuring grin anyway. “That’s what I like to hear.”

A lull settles in the car and Kise rests his forehead against the window, watching street lights fly by in fuzzy yellow blurs. The anesthetic hasn’t totally worn off, but the doctor’s prognosis is clear in his memory: four to six weeks on crutches, then two to four months in physical therapy, before he can properly walk again.

 _Presently, it’s too early to make a prediction about your basketball career,_ the doctor had kindly informed him when he had asked. _We’ll do our best to help of course, but there’s a chance that you won’t be able to play again, even after rehabilitation._

The words ring in Kise’s head. Basketball has been such a crucial part of his life that he can’t imagine continuing without it. It’s how the Generation of Miracles has stayed together, even with how their paths in life have diverged. Kise may not know about science like Midorima or business like Akashi, but he knows _basketball_ , and that has been enough.

Without basketball, will he still be enough?

They reach his apartment a few minutes later, Kise thankful that his complex has a working elevator. Kasamatsu insists on crashing on his fold-out couch to make sure he’s okay, despite Kise’s best efforts to dissuade him. He orders takeout for them both and goes to wait outside for the food, giving Kise some much-needed space and leaving him with his furiously swirling thoughts.

Kuroko wouldn’t abandon him, Kise is sure of that much; the shadow is too kind to do such a thing just over basketball. Kagami has a soft soul, despite his rough exterior, and Kise can already imagine his distress at hearing the news because he can’t comprehend what it would mean to not play basketball again. Midorima is a mother hen even if he denies it, texting everyone their Oha Asa horoscopes and medical advice, and Murasakibara cares in his own ways, sending shipments of homemade desserts to everyone once in a while. Akashi, of course, dutifully keeps tabs on everyone and reminds them to take care of themselves during exam weeks.

At the very least, Kise knows he won’t be completely alone. But there’s one name he’s avoiding, purposefully, and that’s Aomine. Even the thought of him makes Kise’s heart flutter, like a lovestruck maiden in a fairytale. Aomine had been the one to introduce Kise to basketball in the first place, and Kise had fallen head over heels for him in the process.

It’s been seven long years over which Kise has accepted that his feelings will never be returned, but he’s happy enough just to be by Aomine’s side. He loves the look of impressed awe on Aomine’s face when he does something unexpected. He loves the huffed but proud “congrats” Aomine gives him when he wins a one-on-one. He loves the way they play like there’s no end, until they’re both so tired that they’re sprawled on the cool asphalt and laughing breathlessly into the evening air like they’re drunk on each other.

Kise loves everything about playing basketball with Aomine. It’s terrifying to realize he may never be able to do it again.

“Oi, thinking that much isn’t good for an empty head,” comes Kasamatsu’s voice, accompanied by a flick to the forehead. “Especially an empty head with an empty stomach.”

Kise belatedly realizes he’s furrowed his brow and relaxes it, not wanting to get permanent wrinkles. He then blinks, a white carton coming into focus. He must look a little confused, because Kasamatsu sighs and pushes it into his hands, along with a pair of chopsticks.

“Eat. You’ve had a long day.” Kasamatsu then adds, gruffly, “I got that sushi you like, too, so you better eat all of it.”

That brings a tired but genuine smile to Kise’s lips. “Thanks, Kasamatsu-senpai. You’re the best.”

“Thank me by eating everything,” Kasamatsu reminds him, though not without a chuckle. “Don’t mention it.”

The pair eats in relative silence, too hungry to pause—neither of them have eaten since before the game. After dinner, Kasamatsu pulls out some of his school work and Kise finally checks his phone, responding to worried texts from his agent, family, and teammates. He checks the Miracles’ group chat, pleasantly surprised to find it filled with well wishes.

Aomine sent one text (“ _get well soon so i can kick ur ass_ ”), and it’s so classically Aomine that it makes Kise snort. Still, the longer he stares at it, the more his heart sinks. Of course the text has to do with basketball; it’s their common pastime, after all. But what will happen if he can’t play basketball again? Will Aomine still care?

A laptop clicking shut startles Kise, and he looks up to notice Kasamatsu watching him with an inscrutable expression from the coffee table. Kise quickly neutralizes his own features, hoping Kasamatsu hasn’t caught him agonizing.

“You know,” Kasamatsu begins. “Momoi-san called me while you were in surgery.”

“Oh? Momocchi?” Kise grins impishly, pushing aside his worries for a moment. “Were you actually able to talk to her this time?”

“Sh-shut it, you brat,” Kasamatsu growls, but there’s still a telltale blush spreading across his cheeks as he recalls his last encounter with her. “I did, actually. She was worried about you—well, all of your Miracles were. They all texted me and I didn’t even know they had my number.”

“Yeah, I gave it to them in case if anything happened.” Kise’s curiosity gets the better of him, and he can’t stop himself from blurting, “Even Aominecchi?”

“I said all of them, didn’t I?” Kasamatsu gives him a look, half irritated and half exasperated. “Anyway, he was there when Momoi-san called. He was in the background, but since he’s so damn loud, I could hear him through the phone. He kept interrupting her and demanding to know what happened. I’ve never heard him sound so concerned before.”

Kise’s eyes widen, his heartbeat speeding up. It’s a well-known fact that Aomine is generally apathetic to things beyond basketball. Kasamatsu does know about his infatuation, perhaps more than anyone else, but Kise knows he wouldn’t make this up just to make him feel better. Is Aomine truly worried about him then?

Aomine’s text flashes in his mind, immediately sobering Kise. He can’t do it, not when all the only thing that links them is basketball and that may soon be severed. He can’t let himself get his hopes up with his future and friendship so uncertain, only for them to be crushed later.

“It’s probably just because he won’t be able to have one-on-ones with me anymore,” Kise replies with a dismissive laugh, as if those words aren’t driving a dagger deeper into his chest. “He has Kagamicchi anyway! I guess I was always destined to be second to him.”

Kise doesn’t mean to say it. He’s kept it to himself for years because Kagami is such a good friend and jealousy is such an ugly emotion, but it comes tumbling out anyway. Kasamatsu looks shocked by the admission himself, though it isn’t long before his thick brows draw together in some odd emotion, like he’s just tasted something bad.

Kise is just glad it isn’t pity. He’s feeling enough for himself already.

“Well, I’m really tired, senpai, so I’m gonna head off to bed,” Kise chirps, giving Kasamatsu an overly bright smile as he props himself up on his crutches. “Don’t mind me though! Stay up as long as you need to. I’m sure the painkillers will keep me knocked out anyway.”

Kasamatsu’s forehead creases deeper. Kise's bravado doesn't fool him, just like it never does. It looks like he wants to say more, and Kise knows it’s taking him an incredible amount of self-restraint to not do so. Finally, Kasamatsu says with a sigh, “Alright. I’m just a shout or phone call away if you need me, so don’t hesitate if something happens overnight.”

“Thanks, senpai! Good night.”

“Good night, Kise.”

Kise hobbles into the bathroom, eager to start his nighttime routine to keep his other thoughts at bay. It works, kind of. He takes a little longer than he normally does, paying extra care to revive his skin after the dry air of the hospital, but the questions still pester him. Will Aomine still hang out with him if he can’t play basketball? Will they still be friends? Will he still be interesting enough?

Kise’s exhausted by the time he climbs into his bed, feeling a pressure behind his eyes that has nothing to do with physical fatigue. He stares at his cast, glowing white in the dark. It’s ugly for so many reasons, but the worst is what it means: that his time has run out. He thought he’d accepted it, that Aomine would never return his feelings, but realizing he’s run out of chances causes a pain almost as intense as when he’d torn his Achilles.

Kise doesn’t register when he begins to cry, but it overtakes him in a whirlwind and suddenly every fear, every pain, every doubt is pouring out of him in the form of sobs and tears. All he can think is that it’s unfair and it hurts, it hurts, it _hurts._

As much as Kise thought he’d prepared for it, he doesn’t want to accept that Aomine may never notice him again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi friends! Sorry that this chapter took so long; I'm graduating from uni next month and I've been busy with school. This update ended up being pretty long though, so I hope you enjoy! I had a lot of fun writing it :)
> 
> Also, I realized I didn't provide much background on Kise's injury in the last chapter! Basically, the Achilles tendon connects your calf muscles to your heel bone and it's what lets you move your foot and ankle to jump, run, and even walk. It's really important, particularly in basketball, so if you tear it (which can happen with age as a professional player, or if you just happen to land really suddenly and unluckily like Kise did), you basically lose the ability to do any of those activities for a while. Surgery is done to reattach the tendon, but usually post-surgery the player isn't as athletic or agile as they used to be. If you want a real life example to research, check out Kobe Bryant's ACL tear! Don't be too worried though - Achilles tendon ruptures really only happen with professional athletes. :)
> 
> I chose this particular injury for Kise because it tied into his ankle issues from high school. Even though he's young, the repeated stress he was putting on his ankle ended up catching up to him and resulting in the tear. (I also happen to know the most about it because I'm a huge Lakers fan and Kobe's injury was painful on a personal level, LOL.)
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy this chapter!

“Dai-chan… Ki-chan got hurt. Really badly. And… they don’t know if he’ll be able to play basketball ever again.”

“You’re fucking with me,” Aomine responds immediately, even though Momoi doesn’t ever pull pranks like this, even though she’s starting to cry because she can tell how hard it is for him to process. “Satsuki, you’re fucking with me—”

Momoi somberly shakes her head, turning her laptop towards him. Aomine can’t believe what he’s seeing.

There on her screen is a photo of a familiar blonde basketball player, sitting on the court and clutching the back of his ankle and gritting his teeth in a display of unmistakable agony. It’s a harrowing snapshot headed by an equally harrowing title: _Kyushu Star Kise Ryouta Tears Achilles in Win Against Kumamoto._

Achilles tears ruin careers. Even professional players end up sidelined for months and, if they make it back on the court, they can’t quite return to their former glory. It’s one of the worst fates that could befall a basketball player, and Aomine doesn’t understand why someone like Kise, who loves the sport, plays his heart out for it, deserves it. He can’t imagine never having a one-on-one again.

Seeing Kise in print is nothing new. It’s something Aomine has grown accustomed to since Teikou, and he’s always grumbled about the blonde’s innate inability to look anything but photogenic in games. But this—this is something he never wanted. He’s never wanted to see that confident, radiant boy waning and vulnerable in his darkest hour, captured for the world to see when surely he doesn’t want the world to see it.

Cold numbness burns into white hot anger the longer Aomine looks at the picture, likely plastered all over blogs and forums by now for people to parlay about when they can’t even hope to understand Kise’s pain. Aomine growls, slamming a fist down on the tabletop and startling Momoi. His empty coffee cup clatters to the floor.

“Whose shitty idea was this?” Aomine spits, gesturing roughly to the picture. “Posting this when he’s—when he’s—”

“I know, Dai-chan,” Momoi soothes, placing a gentle hand over his fist. “But Ki-chan is also the star of their team. You hate it because you care so much about him, and I understand that, but this happens in a big college league.”

Aomine knows Momoi is right, that this is a pointless thing to get angry about, that he’s incredibly emotionally biased, but he doesn’t know where else to direct his frustration. Everything about this situation is unfair, and he hates to think about what state Kise must be in.

“Kasamatsu-san said he’s in surgery now,” Momoi explains patiently, and if she notices his fist trembling underneath her hand, she doesn’t mention it. “I know you want to go see him, but he’s had a long day and he’ll need time to himself. He has Kasamatsu-san. We’ll go see him once he’s ready.”

It’s not the first time Aomine has been jealous of the former Kaijou captain, but he’s thankful Kise has a trusted person by his side. He takes a deep breath and relents quietly, “Okay.”

 

* * *

 

Aomine’s complained about it, but truthfully, he’s come to look forward to Kise’s kaomoji-laden barrage of texts every day. He doesn’t respond to every single thing, but he does read them, catching up when he’s bored during lecture or winding down after practice. He likes teasing and bickering with Kise, and judging from the way Kise always bounces back with retorts of his own, he does, too. It’s a nice constant, in both of their lives.

That’s why, when Kise doesn’t respond to his text for days, Aomine begins to feel unsettled. The rest of the Miracles haven’t heard from him either, and though Kasamatsu texts him updates once in a while, all he says is that Kise is tired and leaves it at that. Even Kise’s social media profiles, always bustling with updates, have been inactive since the day of the surgery.

There’s no doubt that Kise’s taking this hard. It frustrates Aomine, because he hates knowing Kise’s feeling this way. He wants to cheer him up, but at the same time, he knows that with such a serious injury, there’s nothing he can say that would truly help. All he can do is watch from the sidelines.

Five days pass before the drought ends, with an apologetic text from Kise saying he’s been busy adjusting to life on crutches and now feels well enough to have company. Though everyone scolds him for disappearing, it’s evident that they’re all relieved to hear from him again, if Akashi’s declaration that he’ll fly over on his private jet in a couple of hours is anything to go by. The exchanges are familiar and comforting, and Aomine thinks, perhaps, that things are starting to look up for Kise.

However, when he and Momoi go to see Kise the next day, he realizes he can’t be further from the truth.

Kasamatsu is the one that opens the door and lets them in, and Aomine snickers because he _still_ gets tongue-tied around Momoi. At least this time, he manages to make eye contact when he stammers, “Hey, M-Momoi-san, Aomine.”

“Hi, Kasamatsu-san!” Momoi, already used to and a little endeared by this, doesn’t mind and greets him back brightly. “I’m glad we caught you before you had to go.”

“Yo, senpai.” Aomine scans the living room over Kasamatsu’s head, but he doesn’t see anyone, let alone who he’s looking for. “Where’s Kise?”

Kasamatsu locks the door behind them. “He’s napping. The painkillers make him really drowsy.”

“Oh, we shouldn’t disturb him,” Momoi replies with a frown. “We can come back another—”

“Senpai, you’re going to class anyway, right? I’m gonna go wake him up,” Aomine interrupts, setting the grocery bag of food on the table and making his way to Kise’s room before Momoi or Kasamatsu can react. He’s already had to wait this long to see Kise, so he’s not leaving without at least confirming with his own eyes that his friend is okay.

“Don’t do anything stupid” is all Kasamatsu says in warning. Aomine snorts in response to his mother bear attitude. As if he would.

The door to the room is ajar, and Aomine is immediately hit with the recognizable scent of Kise’s cologne when he walks in. A few steps further and he finally sees Kise, fast asleep and spread eagle on top of his covers with a plain bed sheet thrown over him. His cast leg, completely encased from the knee down, is elevated on a stack of pillows; Aomine can’t even see his toes, and it looks incredibly uncomfortable.

Aomine plops himself down on the bed, none too gently, but the blonde doesn’t even twitch. He leans down a little, giving himself time to examine Kise’s face. There’s a little more puffiness under his eyes, but otherwise, he’s as flawless as ever. It’s a little annoying, but it’s also reassuring that despite everything, Kise still looks the same.

Aomine’s always known that, objectively, Kise is very pretty. He’d once accidentally said it aloud in Teikou, when Kise was cheering after his first successful game with a beam so radiant that it felt like the sun’s rays themselves. Midorima called his observations “a product of infatuation.” Aomine had scoffed at the time, ridiculing the resident nerd for speaking in riddles.

It turned out to be more of a premonition than a riddle, when a tipsy Aomine had blurted “Kise” in response to a teammate asking if he was interested in anyone in his freshman year of college.

The two people present at the time had been too drunk to remember, but Aomine did, and it plagued him for weeks. Why had he answered that question with Kise’s name, so surely and suddenly at that? As if those words had broken a dam in his mind, he began thinking about things he thought he’d forgotten in high school. Things like holding hands, going on dates, kissing, being a _couple_ —except with Kise instead of some faceless busty girl, and Aomine found he preferred it. And then suddenly, finally, he realized he had a crush on Kise.

Only Momoi has found out so far, _maybe_ Kuroko, and that’s only because he swears they can both read his mind. Even he and Momoi don’t talk about it a lot though, simply because Aomine doesn’t want to. There’s nothing wrong with having a crush on Kise in principle, but Aomine is very aware that he has no chance. How can he be the one to tie down Kise when Kise has the entire world waiting for him? So, Aomine’s accepted his feelings, respected their friendship, and moved on.

Or at least, he’s _tried_ to move on. Times like this, when Aomine catches himself staring and wanting to caress Kise’s cheek—or worse, _kiss_ it—he realizes he hasn’t done a very good job.

Cursing to himself, Aomine snaps himself out of it. He puts a hand on Kise’s shoulder and gently shakes him. “Oi, Kise, get up.”

Kise stirs briefly, his forehead creasing. Aomine tells himself it isn’t _at all_ adorable. “Few… few more minutes, Kasamacchi…”

That’s definitely a new one. Though Aomine is sure Kise would be murdered if he said it in front of his intended target, the cutesy nickname, coupled with Momoi undoubtedly giggling at something _Kasamacchi_ has said in the other room, makes him shake Kise a little more forcefully.

“I’m not your precious senpai, dumbass. Wake _up_.”

The roughness of his voice seems to dig into Kise’s sluggish brain, and his eyes finally flutter open. It feels like some cheesy fairy tale until Kise’s eyes widen and he sits up ramrod straight.

“A-Aominecchi?”

“Yeah,” Aomine echoes with a smirk. “Definitely not _Kasamacchi_.”

“Shut up,” Kise huffs, with a hint of color in his cheeks. Aomine _really_ wants to know what that’s about, but he leaves it be and gets up to give Kise some space.

“Well, Satsuki and I came to visit, so you better get your ass out of bed.”

“Oh, Momocchi’s here?” Kise quickly runs his hands through his sleep-mussed hair and swings his legs over the side of the bed. “I have to go see her.”

“I’m literally standing right here.”

“And?” Kise asks sweetly, batting his eyelashes. Even sarcastically, it somehow disarms Aomine and he can’t formulate a good response.

Kise laughs to himself and reaches for the crutches leaning against the wall near his bed. Before Aomine can even ask if he needs help, Kise fluidly props himself up on his own. It seems he’s gotten used to it, which is good progress. Aomine doesn’t even know how long it’ll be until he can properly walk again, let alone play basketball.

“Aominecchi.”

Realizing he’s been staring at the cast, Aomine’s gaze guiltily snaps back up to guarded golden eyes. There’s a careful, condoling smile on Kise’s face, and even though he’s right next to him, Aomine suddenly feels very far away.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to look at me like that.”

Kise hobbles out of the room before Aomine can say anything more, leaving Aomine no choice but to follow in silence.

“Ki-chan!” Momoi cries, tackling Kise with a hug of such force that Aomine worries he might topple over. “You had us all so worried. I’m so happy to see you!”

Kise smiles easily, squeezing Momoi back with one arm. “Sorry about that, Momocchi! Things have been… a little hectic.”

“It’s to be expected, I suppose. How’s your ankle doing?” Momoi stoops to examine Kise’s cast. “Dai-chan wasn’t mean to you, right?”

Aomine bristles. “Oi!”

“Don’t worry, Aominecchi played nice,” Kise snickers, raising his injured leg for her to see. “Nothing’s really different, though. It’s just numb. I take a lot of painkillers so I can’t really feel anything… or stay awake, or do anything productive, really. One of the guys on the team has to take notes for me.”

“Good! Resting is the most important thing right now. I, for one, don’t want you to go around campus on crutches until you absolutely have to,” Momoi chides, though her expression is soft. She cradles one of Kise’s hands in hers. “I’m really glad you’re okay, Ki-chan. We _all_ are.”

Aomine doesn’t miss the flash of pain in Kise’s eyes before he smiles back at her. “We’ll have to see about that, Momocchi… but thank you.”

Kasamatsu comes back into the room at that moment, zipping up his school bag. Sensing the change in atmosphere, he reaches over to ruffle Kise’s hair. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours, but text me if you need something. Boss around this brat here if you need to.”

Kise laughs at that, smiling a little more brightly at Kasamatsu like a puppy seeing its owner. Aomine hates that he envies it. “Got it! Thanks again, Kasamatsu-senpai. I really owe you one.”

“All you owe me is getting better,” Kasamatsu replies sternly, though not without a grin of his own. “Don’t be stupid. _Both_ of you. I know Momoi-san is used to dealing with you but cut her some slack.”

“Actually, Kasamatsu-san, does your campus have a study area?” Momoi asks, completely out of the blue. Aomine looks at her in bewilderment. There’s a twinkle in her eye, the one that means she’s planning something, but even after so many years of knowing her, Aomine still can’t figure it out. “I have some work I need to do, so I’ll just come back with you after your class. Dai-chan will take care of Ki-chan!”

Kasamatsu seems confused, but he nods. “Uh, y-yeah, sure. I can take you.”

“Lovely! Thank you.” Momoi slings her purse over her shoulder, giving Kise an apologetic smile. “Sorry, Ki-chan, it’s kinda urgent.”

Kise is also confused, but he offers Momoi a smile. “It’s fine! I know you’re busy.”

“I’ll see you later then! Oh, and by the way, _that_ —” Momoi points at the grocery bag on the table with a wink. “—was _entirely_ Dai-chan’s idea.”

“Satsuki, _what_ —”

“Have fun, you two!”

With that, Momoi closes the door, somehow managing to leave the apartment in a whirlwind in mere seconds. There’s a few long moments of awkward silence during which Kise tilts his head at Aomine, who is rapidly becoming more and more flustered as the blonde stares at him in questioning.

“It’s onion gratin soup,” Aomine finally says, gruffly. “I know it’s your favorite, so…”

Kise’s staring at him in wonder now, as if he’s shown him an amazing new move on the court. It’s far better than Kise moping, but somehow that expression makes Aomine feel self-conscious and he looks away. “So uh, you want some right now, or…?”

Aomine’s question seems to snap Kise out of whatever trance he’s in. “I ate before I fell asleep,” he says sheepishly. “But I’ll save it for dinner! Thanks.”

“It’s nothing,” Aomine says awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck as he tries to think of another topic. It’s never this hard—in fact, he’d say he can talk the easiest with Kise out of all his friends—but now he has reservations. He doesn’t want to bring up anything that might cause Kise to make that hurt expression from earlier.

“Aominecchi, I’m not that fragile,” Kise chimes in suddenly, smile tinged with amusement like he knows exactly where Aomine’s line of thought is going. He maneuvers himself onto the couch, props his foot on the coffee table, and pats the empty seat next to him. “Come on, tell me things like you always do! How’s the team? I heard you guys are this year’s favorites!”

As easily as Kise can read Aomine’s face, he often forgets that Aomine can read him back just as easily. Aomine knows Kise’s forcing himself, putting on a mask that’s porcelain and perfect—except to those who know its weak points.

“Don’t try to make this about me, Kise.”

There’s one crack; he’s caught Kise off guard. He blinks up at Aomine, genuinely puzzled. “What?”

Aomine’s brow furrows, opting to fold his arms instead of sit down. “You don’t have to force yourself like this.”

“What do you mean? We _always_ talk about basketball.” Kise’s starting to fidget with his earring, a clear sign that he’s anxious. “That’s… that’s like our thing. Even if I can’t play, we can still talk about it, right?”

There’s a strange note of desperation in Kise’s voice, as if he’s clinging onto something. “Why’re you asking me that so weirdly?” Aomine demands. “You just got your surgery—”

The walls come up again, just like that. Kise’s eyes turn sharp. “So you’re pitying me?”

“ _No!_ ” Aomine shouts exasperatedly, his temper flaring. “For fuck’s sake, Kise, I can tell you don’t wanna talk about basketball right now! And hell, I don’t blame you, I fucking wouldn’t either, after all this shit. But you’re forcing yourself right now and I don’t get why you’re pretending it’s okay! You’re already in so much pain, so why the fuck are you hurting yourself even more?”

Kise doesn’t respond right away, brow furrowed as if he’s thinking long and hard. His gaze drops to his lap, unable to take the intensity of Aomine’s.

“I… I can’t have one-on-ones with you anymore, Aominecchi,” Kise eventually says, by way of explanation. “At least, not for a few months, but… even then, I won’t really be the same. My perfect copy is limited by my body. I won’t be a challenge for you at all.”

“So what?” Aomine asks bluntly. “Do you think all I care about is having one-on-ones with you?”

It’s a rhetorical question, but judging from the way Kise flinches, Aomine realizes he’s unwillingly hit the nail on the head. “You can’t be serious.”

“Try me,” Kise replies with a humorless laugh.

“Shit, Kise, what kind of asshole do you think I am?”

“It’s not that black and white, Aominecchi.” Kise’s voice is quiet and even. “I know you care, but the only reason we’re this close is because of basketball. If I can’t play basketball anymore, we’ll inevitably drift apart. You’ll lose interest in me because you can’t go all out against me, and that’ll be it.”

Each word is so brutally, yet resignedly honest that it’s now Aomine who’s stunned. He had no idea Kise harbored thoughts like this, let alone convinced himself that they’re true.

“So even if I can’t play anymore, at least I can talk to you about basketball.” Kise smiles, distant. “It’s not ideal, but hey, at least it’s something, right?”

Aomine can barely believe the twisted irony: Kise talking as if he’s worthless to Aomine beyond basketball, even though he’s the person who occupies so many of Aomine’s thoughts off the court. Aomine knows he isn’t the best at communicating, but he’d thought Kise of all people would be able to tell that their friendship was deeper than this.

“You just don’t get it, do you?”

“Excuse me?” Kise asks, affronted.

“Do you know how fucking worried I was when you didn’t answer any of our texts?” Aomine growls, not angry but hurt. “Do you know how many times I texted your senpai just to make sure you were okay?”

“I…” Kise’s eyes are wide and stunned, as if he hadn’t even considered it.

“Kise, the _last thing_ I care about right now is basketball! It’s shitty that you got hurt. It’s shitty that you might not get to play basketball again. But I care about _you_ before I care about playing with you. I don’t know what kind of crap you stuffed in your head, but even if you never play again, nothing’s gonna change the fact that you’re my friend. _Nothing,_ you hear me?”

Aomine feels tiny pinpricks in his eyes and stops talking before he has more to be embarrassed about. Still, he doesn’t stop glaring at Kise, who’s rightfully speechless and also beginning to cry. The ugly crying face he’s gotten so used to sobers him a little, and he finally flops down next to Kise on the couch.

“And if… if I fuck up, I give you permission to punch me,” he adds, looking away. “Just once though. And no WWE perfect copy shit.”

Kise snorts, wetly and unattractively through his tears. “You’re an idiot, Aominecchi.”

Aomine flicks Kise’s forehead. “Hey, _you_ have no right to tell me that.”

“I thought you were going to forget about me,” Kise admits, quiet and vulnerable between hiccups. “The injury is already so hard without that, but I thought… I thought…”

“You’re overthinking.” Aomine keeps a hand on Kise’s head, absentmindedly smoothing a few hairs into place. “I’m not going anywhere, idiot.”

Aomine waits, letting Kise get the rest of it out of his system. It takes him a couple of minutes for him to start calming down, but even then, his attention keeps drifting back to his cast leg on the table. Aomine nudges his shoulder.

“Oi, Kobe came back from this, remember? And you’re way younger than him. It’s not over yet.”

Kise sighs heavily, patting his face dry with his sleeves. “I know, it’s just… hard. I hate feeling so useless. I keep replaying that moment in my head, like what if I hadn’t pivoted so hard, what if I’d passed to someone instead—”

Aomine doesn’t want to hear Kise put himself down even more, so he does what seems natural—he pulls a totally unsuspecting Kise into his arms.

“H-huh?”

“You were overthinking again,” Aomine explains casually, as if his heart isn’t beating faster at having Kise so close that he can smell his shampoo. “You like hugs, don’t you?”

Kise’s voice comes from somewhere near his clavicle. “I mean, I do, but… you never hug people. You barely let _me_ hug you.”

“Shut _up,_  dammit,” Aomine grumbles, squeezing the back of Kise’s head in annoyance. He’s glad Kise can’t see his reddening face. “I’m trying to cheer you up here.”

That gets a small laugh out of Kise, and Aomine finally feels him loop his arms around his back, squeezing him in return. “Thanks.”

“If you start feeling shitty and your senpai isn’t around, text me,” Aomine says seriously. “I’ll come after practice if I have to—”

“I love you, Aominecchi.”

The words are whispered, as if they weren’t meant to be said, but Aomine still hears them loud and clear. It takes a few moments for Aomine’s brain to catch up to his ears, and when it does, he’s absolutely certain he’s heard wrong. He pulls back to look at Kise, who looks just as shocked as he feels. Even more than shocked, he looks scared.

“I… didn’t mean to say that,” Kise laughs nervously, sitting back to put a little distance between them. “You can ignore that, Aominecchi! I mean, _love_ , that’s pretty silly, right?”

“Kise—”

“I’m just being dramatic, you know me! Well, my feelings are real, but love is a heavy word and it just slipped out—

“Kise, I like you, too.”

“Aominecchi, stop interrupting me! Anyway, I know you don’t return my feelings, so we can just forget that this ever… happened…”

Kise trails off and this time it’s he who’s frozen, Aomine watching in real time as he processes. He stares at Aomine for what feels like hours, as if he can’t believe what he’s heard.

“I said _I like you_ , dumbass,” Aomine repeats when Kise doesn’t say anything, scowling as if it’ll get rid of his embarrassment. “Maybe love. I dunno how this works.”

Kise holds his head in his hands, mumbling to himself. “Is… are the meds making me loopy? Am I hallucinating?”

“Do you want me to kiss you and find out?”

Aomine didn’t mean for it to come out flirty—he’s just exasperated and impatient at this point—but with the way Kise’s entire face turns red, it’s completely worth it. He finally responds this time, with a breathless “yes, please” that makes Aomine act on instinct.

It’s clumsy and awkward and neither of them is very good at kissing, their teeth bumping and their mouths sometimes missing the mark. But the feeling of their lips _finally_ against one another’s in reality and not a dream is exhilarating. They kiss and kiss with years of longing behind each one, as if they can’t get enough of one another, driven purely by desire and adrenaline.

They’re forced to part for air and Aomine feels dizzy and intoxicated, especially with Kise still a hairbreadth away. 

“I think… I really like kissing,” he declares, dazedly.

Aomine feels the gentle puff of Kise’s giggle against his lips, so purely giddy that Aomine’s heart races from the sound. “You should’ve said so sooner. You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to.”

Aomine hazards a bleary guess. “Two years?”

“Seven,” Kise says softly, smiling at the realization dawning in Aomine’s eyes. He winds his arms around Aomine’s neck, closing the distance so his lips brush against Aomine’s with every syllable and send tingles down Aomine’s spine. “We’ll talk about it later. I think I’m still hallucinating, Aominecchi… could you help me again?”

Truthfully, Aomine didn’t need any encouragement, but he certainly can’t ignore such a kind invitation.

 

* * *

 

“And… you’re sure this will work?”

Kasamatsu doesn’t mean to sound rude, but the truth is that he’s skeptical, even after Momoi has explained her entire plan to him on the way back to Kise’s apartment. He has to admit that it’s very well thought out on her part, but could it work when the two people involved are so unpredictable?

“I know these boys like the back of my hand, Kasamatsu-san,” Momoi assures him with a confident wave of her hand, as if she’s read his thoughts. “Especially Dai-chan. It’s horrible that Ki-chan has been injured like this, but I can tell that it’s really gotten Dai-chan thinking about how he feels. Plus, since Ki-chan has been seeking Dai-chan’s attention since Teikou, this injury has him wondering if he should just come out and confess, too, since he has nothing to lose.”

It’s all sound and does make sense, Kasamatsu has to admit. “Well, I hope it works, because I’m tired of watching Kise pine like a giant lovesick puppy,” he mutters, pulling the spare key for Kise’s apartment out of his pocket. “I’d trust your judgment over mine about these things anyway. I-I’m… not really experienced with them, myself.”

“It just takes practice! If you’d ever like some… well, just let me know.”

Momoi throws Kasamatsu a wink that completely overrides any prior brain function he’d had. With a giggle, she plucks the key from his fingertips before he accidentally drops it. She carefully unlocks the door, opening it partially before pressing a finger to her lips and motioning inside.

Kasamatsu steps closer, peering through the crack, and then he sees them: Aomine and Kise, wrapped in each others’ arms and fast asleep. In spite of himself, Kasamatsu can’t help but let out a sharp, relieved exhale. “ _Finally_.”

Momoi beams with pride, closing the door quietly and relocking it. “It’s probably best to leave them for now. We have a couple of hours before Dai-chan wakes up and wonders where the hell I went, so we’ll probably get an angry call. Until then…” She turns to Kasamatsu, kindly. “Shall we get some practice in right now? That coffee shop you pointed out earlier looked really nice.”

Kasamatsu’s not the most perceptive person when it comes to romance. He stammers and stutters through conversations, he doesn’t pick up hints, and the vast majority of things go over his head. But this time, he can’t help but feel that Momoi is asking something significant—so he nods, even managing a shaky smile. Just that is enough to make Momoi smile back at him, and for once, he finds the resolve to not look away.

There’s an entire kaleidoscope of butterflies erupting in his stomach, not entirely unpleasant. And, amongst their vibrant, vivacious wings, Kasamatsu feels a flutter of hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I definitely did not plan for the KasaMomo to be that shippy, but it ended up really cute and I didn't have the heart to change it haha. (And no, they're not talking about anything dirty.) 
> 
> And that's the end! I'm still toying with the idea of an epilogue, but I kind of like where this left off so I may keep it this way. Thank you to all who have read this fic, left kudos, or commented - you all keep me going and wanting to write more. Please let me know what you thought of this chapter/fic in the comments, and I'll see you in my next fic!


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